


I Heard You

by Jesseabi, Owl_Postmaster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesseabi/pseuds/Jesseabi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owl_Postmaster/pseuds/Owl_Postmaster
Summary: Draco stood behind his desk panting; he struggled to stand straight. The figure vanished in a mist but not before it had whispered in a soft voice in his head.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	I Heard You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Titti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/gifts).



> My huge gratitude for Vaysh for your help, guidance and patience. Without your support and beta reading, I wouldn't have been able to do this. Thank you!

Bang!

Draco closed his house front door as hard and fast as he could and stood there, taking heavy breaths as he swallowed. His stiff shoulders relaxed gradually as he strode to the nearest Apparition Point, away from his disappointed parents. He inhaled the moist air and concentrated on his destination. Draco could still hear his father's shouts echo behind him.

"You disappoint me more and more, my son."

The words rang in his ears as the familiar sensation of Apparating pulled him away. Draco was so used to their routine argument that he could no longer bring himself to answer back, then he sighed dejectedly. He got so numb to all the things they said to each other in heated arguments that seemed to never cease. He no longer wanted the weight of his family name burden him. Draco shook his head to clear his mind. He did not want to dwell further onto thoughts that were not supposed to be touched, and ignored the longing ache he felt.

He walked on slowly, always turning behind for a second. He was always looking behind, into the past, not ahead into his present nor his future. He never wanted to, anyway. If he got a chance to look into the past for anything he might do, to make all of this better, to sleep at night and not stare at the ceiling begging his mind to keep quiet, then he would do it in a second. He would do anything to be normal and stay peaceful. Maybe not for happiness, if that was too much to ask, but just for some peace and calmness he would do a lot, just to be a regular person, not a Death-eater, maybe not a person who was judged for something he had done in the past, for mistakes he had made as a boy. 

His head held high, shoulders straight and his face a complete blank mask of indifference, Draco walked down the familiar road towards his office. The sun was hiding behind a heavy grey cloud, darker clouds had spread across the sky. He was wearing a formal white shirt with black robes. His silver tinted earing shone in the glass of the elevator as he entered the Ministry of Magic. His pale skin looked more pale, emanating his mood. He closed his eyes, but he could feel someone staring at him. The hair in his neck perked up, a feeling he was very familiar with since the war. But as he opened his eyes he was alone and the elevator door opened with a _ding_ sound.

Ignoring the unusual feeling, Draco entered his office. He nodded to his colleagues and went into his room. His partner came and placed the usual morning coffee on his desk, then left to grab some files that were needed.

Draco slowly walked toward the French window of his room, with his mug in hand, and looked outside. His window was charmed so he could see the nearby café where they were currently investigating. He was immersed in watching a mother and daughter pair talk animatedly to each other. First, he didn't notice the red-haired bloke enter the cafe. His gaze shifted and then he saw them: Granger and Weasley were laughing with each other. Draco had seen them more than he wanted to admit here in the Ministry as Granger was a Unspeakable. He often met her for a meeting or another. 

But he never met Harry Potter, who was a fellow Auror but Draco had never seen him here. Potter was always engaged in some secret operations, leading teams away from Britain. Draco had not once seen him, not even when they all joined the force on their first day.

Harry Potter... Thinking about him was difficult for Draco, because thinking about him brought all the memories and decisions, choices and the dreams, the nightmares that haunted him. Potter was the symbol of everything he had stood against. 

So Draco couldn't explain the ache that spread through him because he never got to see him. While hearing the news about him kept him updated about Potter's recent activities, still he couldn't explain the mixed feelings he had regarding the Chosen One. There were so many, so very complicated thoughts, so many questions, what-ifs and don'ts that followed him everywhere he went. He couldn't get answers for them, now could he? So if not seeing Harry Potter or not having met him bothered him, Draco did what he normally did: supress the feeling as much as he could, feign ignorance the best he could.

Weasley pecked Granger on the cheek, and she was blushing red smiles back at him. Behind them Draco saw a black-hooded figure. Its heated gaze sent shivers through him, he blinked to see the blurry figure more clearly but it vanished.

He was about to turn when he felt the prickling in his neck again. Draco stood rooted to his spot, coffee in one hand, his wand held tightly in the other, ready to cast a Shielding Charm. He discreetly wiped the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead and maintained his unaffected posture. Slowly he moved back towards his desk, ignoring the figure that stood at the door. He placed his mug on the table and watched it out the corner of his eye. When it moved he barely stopped himself from flinching away.

Draco picked up a red file that was lying on his desk, with a picture of a blurry black shadow. For the past several days, the dark shadow had made various appearances in wizarding society, always without leaving a trace. Only some rune-written word was left behind. 'Pistos' it read which Draco deciphered as _faith_ in Greek. People were affected in a weird sort of way by the encounters with the shadow. They either got suddenly cured from a chronic illness that had had no treatment. Or they died with a peaceful smile frozen on their face.

Draco fidgeted, standing behind his desk. He could feel a gentle magic, like a mother's caresses touching his mental barrier. Draco grabbed hold of his desk corner tightly that his knuckles turned white. He tried to keep the barrier up, but the smooth touch penetrated it without any force. Draco panicked and he could feel himself shifting forward. He heard a slow whisper in his mind, stopping all his panicking thoughts. Draco was glued to his place, his heart beating fast, eyes wide in fear as he tried to push the voice out of his head. He gathered every ounce of his courage, to look straight at the black-hooded figure standing behind the closed door. It didn't have a face just a black hallow mist in its place, blue shimmering light instead of eyes. Its hands were covered with long sleeves and above them was silver armour with different rune patterns sculpted onto it. The robe was long enough to cover or hide its feet.

Draco heard the faint voice again.

"H..."

"...e" 

"Who are you?" Draco managed without stammering through clattering teeth due to the coldness that seeped inside his body. He heard whispers but he couldn't understand even single word. His head started throbbing, right now he wanted all this jolting pain to stop.

"STOP THIS!"

"STOP," he shouted. At the back of his mind he knew that no one could see this figure here, inside his room. Not even his partner came busting in.

He pressed both of his hands on his ears but he couldn't stop hearing the whispering. A silver thread wrapped around his torso, smothering him.

The figure kept staring at him. After what felt like years, the whispers stopped, instead images after images flashed through Draco's mind.

_Two figures pale and sharpened by old age lie together in a bed, holding hands, a content, peaceful smile on their faces. Even on their death-bed they are happy and together._

_Something in Draco aches in a sweet way to see them lying together in such oblivion. Before he can see their faces he is pulled away from there._

_Two men stand beside each other; they are surrounded by some glowing old magic that forms a bond between them. They smile happily at each other. Draco stand in front of them, he can see himself as one of the men. He smiles at the man beside him, a contented smile on his face, fulfilment surrounding them both. The empty edges he often sees in the mirror are no longer there. The figure in front of him is no longer haunted by the past like him. His eyes are not shut or withdrawn, his face is clear and happy. He looks like a healthy man, happily in love with the love of his life. Draco tries to look at the other man's face but it is blur._

_"I love you." Draco hears himself saying the words he never thought he would ever say to the man beside him. His voice is filled with so much affection and love for the man who looks at him as if Draco is everything he wants from the world._

_Draco approaches the two men, but he is whisked away to another place. He staggers and comes to stand in a living room. He turns when he hears two glasses clink. He sees himself, leaning his head on a man's shoulder with a contented sigh. They watch the fire flicker in the hearth, warmed by the blanket placed over them by one man who tucks the other in, caresses his chin and kisses his forehead._

_Then Draco is whisked away again._

_"Oh darling, but you are. You are always stunning and beautifully handsome for me."_

_Draco sees himself flush and then shove the man away and then pull him back by grabbing his front of his robes to kiss as if his life depended on it._

_Again the image swirls and –_

_Draco now stands calmly in the road he takes daily to his office._

_He sees himself walk and crash into someone whose back slams into him and they both fall down._

_"I am sorry," the other person says and stops. "Long time, Malfoy."_

_Before Draco can hear his own answer he is taken back._

Draco stood behind his desk panting; he struggled to stand straight. The figure vanished in a mist but not before it had whispered in a soft voice in his head.

"Your glimmering faith will lead you to your happy ending. I heard you: your persistence for once is not behind but ahead."

Wiping tears from his face, he settled in his chair.

**_6 months later._ **

Draco walks briskly reading his files as usual. He contemplates hexing his partner into oblivion for his tackiness when someone slams into him. A strong rose smell assaults his nose and he bends down to collect his scattered papers. Then he hears him.

"I am sorry."

Draco stares at him, shocked and with a sense of déjà-vu. Those green eyes watch him, and his whole face lights up. Draco is too stunned to even reply.

"Long time, Malfoy." Potter grabs a few papers from the ground and hands them to Draco. 

"Potter." It is a rarity for him that he cannot think of a single thing to say. 

Potter gazes at him and smiles faintly. 

As they both walk side by side, Draco looks ahead, to a new beginning.

** _the end_ ** 


End file.
